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View SlideshowRequest to buy this photoEamon Queeney | DispatchJoy Hale, 54, folds pizza boxes at ARC Industries South in Groveport. The Franklin County Board of Developmental Disabilities has recommended closing ARC South and merging it with three other sheltered workshops.

Cathy Ticknor always wanted to find a job that allowed her to run a cash register. She finally
did, and it almost broke her heart.

“I was so happy,” Ticknor said. “And then they changed their tune. They said I wasn’t fast
enough.”

The experience — one of several in a frustrating cycle of seeking, finding and leaving
employment in the general workforce — sent Ticknor to ARC Industries South for help. She’s now an
assistant there, helping others in the warehouse where all workers have some type of developmental
disability, bosses remain patient and no one gets fired.

“These workshops are hugely important,” said Ticknor, 49.

Public policy, however, is fast turning against them. Sheltered workshops are criticized as
discriminatory for paying subminimum wages and depriving participants of the experience of a
typical workplace. State and federal directives show a growing preference for helping people with
developmental disabilities obtain community jobs.

The Franklin County Board of Developmental Disabilities says it remains committed to offering
workshop programs but has recommended closing ARC South and merging that program with the other
three ARC Industries sites on the North, East and West sides.

In the recommendation, board officials cite shifting policy, demand for competitive employment
and declining enrollment. Board members are expected to vote on the plan on Thursday.

Rotolo and other workshop supporters don’t want the policy pendulum to swing too far. They say
it’s unfair and unrealistic to assume that most everyone with developmental disabilities will be
able to find, enjoy and keep community jobs.

“What about those who can’t? That’s the issue,” Judy Rotolo said.

Workshops also offer other activities, training and care for those who don’t want to work or who
feel unable.

“Tony’s nonverbal,” his mother said. “He needs a lot of attention. I can’t imagine what he would
do if he didn’t have this program.”

John Martin, director of the Ohio Department of Developmental Disabilities, said officials want
the change to be “more evolutionary than revolutionary.”

He acknowledged that there aren’t yet enough resources, support and community jobs to supplant
the workshops. About 18,000 Ohioans are served in sheltered workshops, including some who also work
part time in the community.

For now, the primary focus is on making sure that young people with developmental disabilities
don’t leave school and go straight to workshops.

“It’s not about disrupting people who are happy where they’re at,” Martin said.

Workshops have come under review elsewhere. Facing a federal lawsuit, last year Oregon chose to
downsize its sheltered-work program instead. In Rhode Island, citing evidence of abuse, the U.S.
Justice Department pressed for an agreement under which the state would close its workshops. And in
New Jersey, officials approved defunding workshops only to have the legislature halt the effort
last summer after an outcry from supporters.

“It’s pretty apparent the direction it’s going,” said Jed Morison, the superintendent of the
Franklin County board. “But there has to be reality in the discussion, too.”

Incorporating people with intellectual disabilities into the general workforce is a challenge. A
new Gallup survey commissioned by Special Olympics and the Center for Social Development and
Education at the University of Massachusetts-Boston found that changing attitudes and billions of
dollars spent on programs haven’t boosted work rates much in the past four decades.

The survey found that only 34 percent of adults with intellectual disabilities nationwide are
working in any setting.

Anne Matteis said her son has had several internships and jobs, including a union position in a
grocery that lasted seven years. Jimmy, 42, also has shouldered a lot of disappointment.

The last episode, when he had to leave his bakery job after a knee injury made it difficult to
stand, left Jimmy upset, grinding his teeth and suffering from stomach problems.

He was excited about an interview for a computer job and devastated when it fell through.
Matteis said the family’s decision years ago to maintain part-time enrollment at ARC North — a move
she initially opposed — turned out to be a lifesaver.

“Just pushing your child out there because you say he deserves it, even if he doesn’t have the
skills, might do more harm,” Matteis said. “In the workshop, he never stresses.”

Growing up, ARC South employee Kyle Fleshman dreamed of becoming a police officer. The
disabilities that affect his speech and require him to use a wheelchair dictated different
plans.

Fleshman is 26 and has been at ARC for seven years. He once trained for a merchandise-stocking
job but didn’t care for it.

“I love this workshop,” Fleshman said.

ARC South manager Kurt Smith said the emphasis on community employment is great, as long as
families have options. “It is not one size fits all,” he said.

Measuring satisfaction and preferences can be tricky. At least two ARC South workers have been
there more than 40 years.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,” Smith said. “I know that in the 34 years I’ve been
here, I’ve never known them not to be happy.”